Private Dancer
by lenfaz
Summary: I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do
1. Chapter 1

_All the men come in these places  
And the men are all the same  
You don't look at their faces  
And you don't ask their names  
You don't think of them as human  
You don't think of them at all  
You keep your mind on the money  
Keeping your eyes on the wall_

The music sounds in the background and she focuses on the tempo, her mind detached from her body as she moves around the pole. Her hands grip the cold steel tube as she repeats one movement after the other, her arms and legs snaking in and out. Her body contorts, the swell of her breasts exposed through the thin lace of her bodice. Her legs are bare, tanned and toned as she dances around. She doesn't think about it. Not anymore. She doesn't spare one minute to think about any of this: the leering looks, the salacious comments, the wandering hands that are always keen on taking more than what they paid for. She just dances, her mind lost someplace within her head as her body takes over. Not feeling. Not letting herself feel.

 _I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money  
I'll do what you want me to do _

"Emma, you have a client," Ruby called, her luscious red lips closing around the lollipop she'd been licking, her long hair in two pigtails, her smokey eyes with perfect black eyeliner applied to them. All this set to drive her clients crazy for her, obsessed with imagining her lips closing in on them instead of the lollipop. Ruby - never a dumb one although she loves to play the part to a T - takes great pleasure in exploiting this to her advantage, sucking their wallets dry but leaving them very much wanting her to suck anything else dry.

Emma sighed, reaching to loose the ponytail holding her hair together, letting the blonde curls fall in a cascade on her back, adjusting her short skirt and small top, getting ready for the action.

"Who is it?" she asked as she drained her vodka tonic.

Ruby gave her a wolfish grin, her lips closing in on the lollipop and pulling it out of her mouth with a popping sound. "Oh, you got lucky today. At least he's easy on the eyes." She jerked her head in the room's direction and Emma followed her line of sight until the spotted him. Dark disheveled hair, intense cerulean eyes, a perpetual three-day scruff and lilting, accented voice.

Emma made her way to him, her eyes focused on his watching her every move, her lips curving into her professional _All I want is to give you pleasure_ smile. He stared at her, eyes darting to roam over her body appreciatively, undressing her with his intense gaze. She was used to it, the leering stares and the lewd thoughts that were palpable in them. She'd all but shielded herself from them, shutting her mind and her body from reacting or being affected by them.

But when his eyes connected with hers - blue and deep and _troubled -_ there was a shiver running through her body. An electrical current that threatened to set her skin ablaze. She shook off the feeling, willing her body to remain impervious to anything that might happen in the next twenty minutes.

She finally reached her destination, tilting her head to the side, lowering her eyelids to give her stare an air of seduction, her tongue reaching out to wet her lower lip.

"You wanted a lap dance?" she asked in a sultry voice.

He took one more moment to study her, the power of his stare threatening to reach to her core. "Aye," he replied in a strained voice. "I did."

She bent down, and his eyes darted quickly from her face to the skin of her bosom and the sight of the cleavage she was regaling him with. He swallowed, stunned at the sight, and her lips curved into a smile as she moved languidly, positioning one leg at each side of his body as she lowered herself slowly - _very slowly_ \- until she was almost straddling him, only a tiny bit of space between their two bodies. Her eyes found his again, trying to recall what she knew about the dark haired man that had paid for a lap dance.

 _Killian Jones._ Bounty hunter and private investigator _._ A regular, at least for the rum and the watching, not so much for the private rooms or the lap dances. But his eyes were dull today, glassy from the rum and something else that seemed to run deeper within him. It was dangerous. The type of danger that could be lilting, seductive, tempting. The type of danger she no longer wanted in her life.

She lowered herself a little more, the lace of her underwear almost touching the soft fabric of his pants and she could feel his hips jerking upward, craving for the contact. The music played on the background, a nameless tempo chosen specifically to suit the dancers' needs. She smirked mischievously and she slowly moved up, denying him the contact he clearly coveted. He softly groaned in frustration and she mentally scored a point in the game she was holding in her mind. It was always like this, a mouse-and-cat little game she liked to play, making her clients go crazy for her without even touching them. He lifted his head, his eyes leaving the sight of her breasts and trailing up to focus on hers and she was once again taken aback by the intensity in them. She bent her body to the side with a soft contort of her hips meant to distract him, but his gaze remained fixated on hers. She tried a few more moves, her hips rolling back and forth, her body waving itself closer to his. Emma felt him tense underneath her, the air of his breathy exhale reaching her skin, but his eyes never left hers.

It confused her, this man that had paid to see her, to _feel_ her, yet all he was doing was focusing his eyes on hers as he fought the urges of his own body. And she could feel the urges of his body, she could feel the heat radiating from him and enveloping her, almost to the point that her own breathing was becoming labored.

Emma shifted again, rolling her hips in a wavy contort, her body lowering into his. She tilted her head, her long hair caressing his face as she leaned over to speak in his ear.

"You've never asked for this before..." she trailed off, her body finally making contact with his, her laced core pressing over the bulge in his pants.

He finally closed his eyes. "No, I haven't," he confessed breathlessly.

"What changed today?" she asked, her lips almost touching the shell of his ear as she rubbed back and forth, feeling his hardening with every friction.

"I was tired of being alone," he hissed as his hips jerked up almost involuntarily. His hands reached to grab her upper thighs but she quickly placed her hands on top of his and removed them, putting some space between their bodies.

"No touching, Jones," she admonished, before lowering one more time, rubbing her body against his more forcefully as he grunted and moaned. Her breasts pressed over his unbuttoned shirt, and she could feel the charms of his necklace and his chest hair tickling her skin.

"How much-" he started in a strained voice,"if one would like to - you know - secure your company for more enjoyable activities for the night?" His finger trailed down her calf and Emma's breath caught on her throat for a second before she pulled her leg out of his touch.

"I'm not up for it," she explained and she could see his eyes faltering, "but I'm sure there are others that will be more than interested."

He sighed, the intensity back in his eyes as they roamed over her face. "I don't want another. I guess it will be me and my thoughts tonight then." His hands moved tentatively to her hips and this time she didn't stop him. Her own hands anchored in his shoulders as she let him pull her down to him while he thrust up. She felt the pleasure running through her veins and she rubbed back and forth one last time, his head jerking back for a second as she left him hard and wanting, exactly the way she'd intended it.

His breath caught in his throat and Emma leaned back. "Just your thoughts?" She whispered as she reached to grab the money he'd left on the table. "Goodnight, Jones."

Later, in the outskirts of dawn, she laid awake in her bed, her body remembering his touch and shivering. That wasn't supposed to happen. She'd shut down her body, disciplined it not to feel anything as she worked her way through each client every night.

But tonight, her body had betrayed her, breaking her own rules and letting itself feel pleasure at a client's touch. Emma sighed as she closed her eyes, the tiredness creeping into her bones and the blue of Jones' eyes the last image in her mind before sleep finally claimed her.

/-/

"You're wanted again," Ruby's voice had a teasing undertone, her wide smile and the glint in her eyes betraying her. "Private room this time," she finished as she cocked her head to one of the so-called rooms at the back, soft cushions and curtains giving the sense of intimacy.

Emma groaned, adjusting her red laced bodice to enhance her chest and pulling at her thigh high leather boots. "Who is it?"

Ruby grinned wolfishly, playfulness palpable on her every word and every move. " _Please_. Baby blue eyes, dark hair and a sinful scruff. I should get so lucky in my life."

There was a chuckle from behind them at the bar and Emma turned around, rolling her eyes at the brown hair bearded man that overhead Ruby while sipping on his malt. She should have known that Ruby's jest was not only at her expense, but carefully crafted to fit her own agenda. Her own agenda being just one name: detective Graham Humbert. Ruby's best client and rumored to be one of Boston's dirtiest cops. No one would never dared to even to touch a single hair of Ruby's head without her consent, the fear of retaliation from Graham being too much of a risk. No one messed with Graham's pets. And Ruby was his favorite pet.

Whatever her friend had in mind, it was surely in her benefit and Emma could tell by the way Graham was looking at Ruby - as if he would undress her and take her hard right over that bar counter - that it had been successful.

She sighed, running a hand along her hair, making her curls puff into a blonde mane and headed towards the back room that Ruby had pointed. Sure enough, Killian Jones was there, sitting comfortably on the red velvet sofa, tight leather pants and a black shirt unbuttoned almost to the navel, giving a sight of his chest hair and the charm necklace he always carried. He was running his left hand through his hair, and Emma could see the scar lines that started at the back of his hand and crept through his forearm.

She tried to recall the urban legend behind that one. Was it a bad run in with a crocodile down the docks? Or a jealous ex husband not willing to accept his former wife fucking what clearly was a far better option? Regardless, it had been a gruesome ordeal that almost cost him the hand - that much she remembered from drunken whispers of the local patrons that tended to loosen their tongues as the alcohol flooded, thinking of the dancers as dumb bimbos that were part of the decor. And some of them _were_ part of the decor; but some, like Ruby, would only play the part and collect all sorts of information to later trade heavily with other's secrets into her own benefit.

As for Emma, she was not one nor the other, she kept the information she'd heard filed in her mind tightly, only willing to use it if it meant saving her own skin. She wasn't interested in attracting attention to herself, specially not from the type of people that frequented an establishment like this one. Unlike Ruby, she didn't have a dirty cop willing to dispatch any possible threats while making it look like a raid gone rogue and self defense. Nope, Emma only had herself in her corner and that was just about fine with her.

Killian's eyes found hers across the room and put a stop to her random thoughts. He smiled widely, his eyes darkening as she slowly made her way towards him with a little extra sway on her hips. Emma didn't stand on ceremony this time, didn't drag the game. She walked right towards him, her legs positioned at both sides of his and just sank into him. He half-winced half-gasped, and it became a full moan as she rubbed back and forth, feeling him hardening at the movement.

"Twice in week, huh?" she asked provocatively, lowering her eyelids to give him a luscious look.

He smirked, his body responding to hers by the thrusts of his hips to meet her movements, his erection rubbing into her core with every motion. She bit her lower lip to stifle a moan, and he noticed. He raised an eyebrow as his voice dropped an octave into a sensual tone. "What can I say, Swan. Your first dance was too alluring and I found myself craving a repeat performance."

The last of his words were followed by a grunt, as she lifted her body up only to lower it again at a snail's pace, twisting so his face could almost touch her breast, but not quite. He exhaled sharply and his breath almost set the skin of her breasts ablaze, her mind running wild at the thought of his scruff scratching her soft skin.

"You know my last name…." she trailed off, sinking into him again, using the reactions of his body to distract her from her own responses.

He smirked, his face close, his blue eyes boring into hers. "I'm a PI, love," he offered smugly as explanation.

"What else do you know about me?" she asked, trying to keep fear out of her voice but she could hear it in herself and, it seemed, so could he, because his eyes softened.

"I didn't look for anything else," he promised and none of her inner alarms went off. "I know my boundaries," he finished gently, his hand reaching to caress her cheek.

It was the tenderness of the gesture what caught her off guard, but Emma quickly recovered, pulling away her face from his touch and lifting an eyebrow suggestively. "Do you now? No touching, remember?"

He lowered his eyes, a self deprecating smile gracing his lips as he whispered, "Aye… apologies, lass."

She resumed her dance, moving against him, letting her body get dangerously closer to his, until she was seeking the friction of him as much as he was pursuing hers. Emma closed her eyes, feeling her own body shivering and the aching need building up within her.

His hands were close, treacherously close, and she had to muffle her gasps at the thought of his touch. "But - perhaps…" she started hesitantly, her eyes meeting his, finally caving in. She couldn't fight it any longer, her body was rebelling against her mind, begging to be touched by him and once - _just once -_ she was willing to lower her walls a little and let some wandering hands _feel_ her.

He seemed to have read her thoughts as if she were nothing but an open book, her most hidden intentions bare before him. "Just this once?" he suggested in a wrecked voice, his hand hovering over her skin, almost touching her, but not quite.

"A one-time thing, yes," she finally relented and she was lost the moment he pressed his palm flat against her upper thigh. Her skin was set ablaze, her body starting to move frantically against him as he set out to explore her. He buried his face on her chest, his scruff scratching her sensitive skin as his lips offered a balm against it. Emma moaned, unable to restrain herself much longer and his hand traveled up her thigh to squeeze her ass. She grabbed his shoulders, anchoring herself as she ground against him in a frenzied journey that took them both higher and higher, moans and gasps filling the room. But before it was too much, before she lost herself completely, she slowed down, not willing to surrender that last piece of her. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, breathing heavily as he still jerked his hips up, his hard length pressed against her core, sending waves of pleasure up her spine.

"Gods, love, you - you're… _fuck_ " he grunted in a strangled voice, wrecked and gone. He lifted his head and his eyes were out of focus and darkened by lust.

"Did you like that?" she asked breathlessly, her hands rubbing his shoulders, willing her body to come down from her own wreckage.

"Will you not reconsider about those more enjoyable activities?" His voice was smooth and alluring, like a soft caress reaching her skin, enticing her to give into the temptation.

"I told you, I don't do that," she rejected, even as her body protested against her decision.

His hands wandered over her hips, pressing her softly where she was craving the contact the most. "I can give you a wild ride, love." His lips caressed the shell of her ear. "It wouldn't be just about me, you know?" he breathed against her skin and she shivered.

"I know," she acknowledged with a soft sigh, carefully removing her hands from his shoulders, her fingers trailing a path down his chest. "But the answer is still no."

He ran his fingers all over her leg, ghostly caressing her inner thigh until he reached her core, his thumb grazing her clit over the lace. "Until next time," he murmured.

Her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips before she disentangled herself from him and grabbed the money that was on the table. "Until next time, Killian," she whispered.

/-/

"Emma, your new regular awaits," Ruby tore her lips from Graham's neck to give her the information and Emma's heart skipped a beat, her eyes scanning the room to find him. It had been a week since the last dance and she'd thought he'd probably moved onto someone else.

Graham chuckled, his eyes fixated on Emma as Ruby caressed his cheek. "Back VIP room, darling. It seems he's keen on some _true privacy_ this time."

Emma ignored their laughter as she made way to the back room, trying to get her frantically beating heart in control. He was just a client. There was nothing there, she was being paid to give him a lap dance. To grind her body against his, getting him hard and perhaps give him a few minutes of pleasure as she rubbed him. There was nothing more than a mechanical friction of her body against his, making him gasp and grunt, imagining whatever came into his mind to get him off as he closed his eyes.

 _He was just a client._

She entered the room and found him on his feet, pacing back and forth. He stilled and turned around, his face breaking into a soft smile. It was then when she noticed the bruise around his left eyes and the cuts on her cheek.

Her feet moved on her own accord until she was almost pressed to him, her fingers moving to softly caress the yellowish skin. He winced and she retracted her fingers but he leaned into her touch.

"What happened?" she asked.

"One of my skips put up a fight… but don't worry, lass, he's in worse shape," he said with chagrin.

Her lips curved into a smile as she leaned into him. "You can call me Emma," she murmured before her lips closed softly on the cut that ran along his cheek.

" _Emma_ ," he breathed as his face tilted to give her lips a better access. Emma gripped his biceps, carefully making him walk backwards until his knees hit the velvet covered couch. Her hands gave a soft push to instruct him to sit down and he quickly obliged, his eyes never leaving hers. Her knee bent next to his thigh on the couch and she straddled him, lowering herself until she sat on his lap.

Her eyes scanned his face, exploring his features, and then she met his eyes again, her hips rolling slowly against his. His hand moved as if to caress her face, but he seemed to catch himself at the very last minute, stilling his movement. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned into his touch, feeling his calloused thumb caressing her cheek, the metal of his rings cold against her skin.

Exhaling deeply, he rested his forehead against hers as they both moved languidly against each other, their breaths mingling and their lips almost brushing until the tension became too much, the heat of their bodies suffocating them and they both snapped. He gripped her thighs firmly, thrusting up to meet her frenzied movements, the friction of her body taking her into a pleasure she'd never felt before. The sound of his moans brought her back from her high, bringing her back into that VIP room and Killian's darkened blue eyes staring back at her. And in that moment, she knew she had to face the truth.

 _She wanted him._ For whatever reason, her body wanted him - was claiming him fiercely - and Emma couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- deny herself anymore.

His hands were still on her body, tender movements bringing her closer to him, his eyes looking cryptically into hers. She waited for his request for further company, as he'd done the past two times, but it never came. He disentangled their bodies, carefully helping her stand and getting on his feet as well. He seemed to read her confusion, because he asked with concern in his voice, "Are you ok?"

She nodded, not able to find words, and his hand lingered on her hair for a few moments before he exhaled deeply, placing the money on her hand. "Until next time, Swan."

His arm brushed hers as he passed by and she felt all her walls collapsing at her feet with every step he was taking away from her.

"The motel on 10th, do you know it?" she said in a rush, turning to meet his eyes. He stood still for a second before he looked at her and nodded. She closed the distance between them, leaning to whisper in his ear, "Get room number 5 and meet me there at 2 a.m." She felt him nodding and left the room before she regretted the first selfish decision she'd made in a decade.

/-/

Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she made her way to the motel. She'd fled the bar the moment her shift had ended, ignoring the pleas of her last client for another dance. She'd barely been able to stomach the one she'd just given him, resisting the buffeting of his wandering hands on her body. They only served as a reminder of how Killian's calloused hands had felt on her, softly exploring her skin. But he was one of her regulars, and an important client, so she played the apologetic part and promised him to make it up to him the next time, her own body revolting at the idea. She'd run to the dressing room, hastily discarding her laced bodice and throwing a shirt over her bra. She'd changed her heels for flat boots and grabbed her trenchcoat and purse.

Emma knew how she must have looked, after hours of dancing at the bar. She knew she smelled of sweat, smoke and the liquor some idiot had sloshed over her. She'd briefly considered stopping for a shower and a change of clothes but she knew that if she did, she'd never go to the motel. Her brain would kick in and come up with all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

 _And it was a bad idea._ She knew it. Because she didn't want to lower her defenses. The defenses that had taken her years to build and that she held onto for dear life. Because the last time she had lowered them and trusted someone, it had torn her apart and had led her to this so-called life she was now living. Sleeping with Killian meant crossing a line, a line she'd never let herself ever cross.

Yet, she'd found herself on the other side of the door with the number 5 and knocking on it. Whatever reservations she had, they faded away when Killian answered the door and she could see the hunger in his eyes. The same hunger she was feeling at the moment. Without a word, she launched herself into his arms, her lips crushing his in a bruising kiss. He quickly reciprocated, pulling her into the room and closing the door forcefully before he pressed her back against it, his body moving insistently against hers.

"How much-" he asked breathlessly but she cut him off with a soft pull on his lower lip.

"I'm not here for the money," she attested before grabbing him by the hair and pulling him in a bruising kiss.

It felt like fire, liquid heat running through her veins, raw desire reaching every hidden corner of her body. She hadn't- for years, for a decade, she hadn't let her body feel. Emma had used it as a tool, as a way of living, but she'd shut it down, never letting it feel anything, never giving her body any of the sensations that it craved.

Now that she'd opened that gate, her body was set ablaze and her primal instincts had taken over, determined to squeeze this moment until the very last ounce of pleasure it could give to her.

He untied the knot on her belt and removed the coat from her shoulders, letting it fall into the floor, his lips never leaving hers, his tongue stroking her mouth, his teeth scraping against her bottom lip. She gasped, her hands gripping his biceps tighter as his hips ground into hers, his erection rubbing against her front.

He trailed kisses down her throat and into the hollow of her neck, his tongue soothing the skin his teeth had previously grazed. She made haste unbuttoning his shirt, her nails scratching over his nipples as he groaned into her skin. They stumbled through the room - clothes quickly discarded without any finesse - until the back of her knees hit the bed. Killian lowered them onto the bed, his body covering hers. Their limbs tangled, their hands exploring each other. She memorized the feeling of him, from the smell of his cologne to the salty taste of his skin and the roughness of the scars that marked his body. She mapped them with her fingers and lips, cataloguing each one of the sounds that left his lips.

He drove her crazy with his soft strokes, his whispering voice tugging at her belly, urging her to let go until she surrendered to the pleasure, letting him take her higher and higher. She enjoyed the buzz in her body and the building feelings until she finally came with a soft cry as he kept working her body with his soft strokes and lingering kisses.

Her hands travelled down his chest and cupped him, reaching to give him a few tentative strokes. He bucked his hips against her hands and fumbled for the condom that laid on the bedside table. She helped rolling it down and soon the tip of his cock was nudging at her entrance, his nose nuzzling her cheek.

"Don't hold back," she pleaded and he sank deep into her in one swift motion. Regardless of her words, he took his time, his shallow thrusts dragging against her walls, pulling and pushing until the heat built up in her. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he angled himself and found that spot that had her moaning and gasping and he dove deeper and harder, her orgasm hitting her forcefully and triggering his.

Breathless, sweating, _sated_ , they disentangled from each other and he discarded the condom before he reached to pull her into his arms, his hand tracing patterns on the edge of her hip-bone as they drifted into a peaceful slumber.

The next morning, she was gone by the time he woke up, her scent on the pillow the only reminder that he hadn't imagined the night.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N There will be a part 3 coming soon.

* * *

Killian took a deep breath as he leaned on the hood of his black Mustang in the parking lot outside the stripclub.

He shouldn't be here, but then Killian didn't know what he was supposed to do anymore. He hadn't believed in many lines in his wretched life, but there were certain codes he'd managed to maintain. But now, he was watching the last of those blur in front of him, fogged by a pair of green eyes and a mane of curly, blond hair.

He'd noticed her the first time he set foot in that cursed, spiritless joint. In a place where everything was gloomy, where decadence and lecherousness were the everyday currency people traded in, she was a beacon of hope. He could see her broken dreams and lost hope in the way she handled herself, in the walls she had built around herself, in the way her body would move and drive her clients insane, yet her spirit - her true self - seemed to be miles away from there. It had caught his attention, sparking a curiosity he hadn't been able to extinguish.

For weeks he'd watched her, his eyes carefully following her movements, trying to contain his emotions as much as he could. He could tell Ruby had noticed, which meant that Graham was soon teasing him about his crush on Emma Swan and offering to gift him with a lap dance. Killian had refused, repeatedly. Gods knew, that wasn't what he wanted from her. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but a lap dance in a bleak room wasn't it.

But it wasn't as if he had any other opportunities. What was he to do? Try to find her outside the club and ask her out for coffee? He was a regular at the place where she worked, she'd recognize him in an instant and think he was a creep, a stalker obsessed with her. He wouldn't blame her if she did. There was also the constant, nagging thought in his mind: how could he hope to gain a few minutes of her free time when she clearly would sell it at a price to others? How could he consider himself worthy of special treatment? Just because he was Killian bloody Jones and he had a silly crush on her? He'd never thought so highly of himself that he felt entitled of any special favoritism just because he had a charming smile and a smoldering pair of blue eyes.

He wished he'd never set foot in the club in the first place, that he'd bumped into her in a grocery store, or met her in a line to get coffee. Any place but the one he was now in, torn between the need to see her again and his belief in good form.

He also wished he hadn't had to return to the club over and over. But it was the perfect place for Graham to conduct his business, seedy and out of the way from prying eyes, and Killian needed to be where the action was.

He hated it.

Night after night he would see Emma move around the club, serving drinks and sinking onto men's laps. He would watch her avoid those men's treacherous hands - hands he wanted to cut from their bodies for daring to touch her when she clearly didn't want them to, her eyes lost in the distance as she moved automatically, her hips rolling and grinding.

And he _wanted_ it. _Her_. Oh, how he wanted to feel her body grinding against his, all good form and moral ethics be bloody damned. But he reigned himself in and resisted his own urges as much as he could.

Until that night. That night in which his rotten existence caught up with him, the demons of his past haunting, and the rum he imbibed blurring the lines just a little more, making it easier for him to cross that final one.

He'd been nervous when she approached and kept his eyes focused on roaming over her body, mesmerized by her beauty. But the moment she reached him and started moving, he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. He could tell it confused her, and she tried to distract him, to entice him and bring his attention back to her body and away from her. But h saw in her eyes the same thing he saw reflected in the mirror every day. That look, the one you had when you've been left behind.

Then Emma had pressed against him, her body finally making contact with his, causing him to lose all rational thought. He even lost his restraint, his own hands betraying him as they sought to touch her, to feel her skin pressed against his palms. But she'd been faster than him, inflicting on him the only form of punishment she could, removing herself from his proximity. Killian didn't know what made him do it - whether it was the ghosts of his past or the demons he kept caged within himself - but when he'd asked for her company, he'd meant it. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her and forget anything else had ever existed. She'd refused - of course she would, he _knew_ she wasn't the type - but it was her barb about him seeking another willing body that caused the tug in his chest. He didn't want someone else. He'd never want someone else. Not after hearing her breath catch when his hand caressed her leg. He'd felt it, and he knew she felt it too.

She'd been right that day, though. It wasn't only his thoughts that kept him company that night. He was joined by another bottle of rum and the memory of the scent of her hair as he closed his eyes and moved his hand over himself as he dreamt of a life he'd never have.

He lasted two days before he caved in again, the need to feel her close erasing all logical thought as he booked a private room and put in the request for her. Ruby gave him a wide smile, her eyebrow cocking mischievously at him, but Killian ignored her and the goosebumps that ran along the back of his neck as he made his way into the room.

Emma had melded into him this time, her flirty voice and teasing movements making him forget for a second where he was - what he'd paid for - and allowed him to tease back, enjoying the banter between them. It wasn't until he saw the hesitation in her eyes when he referenced her last name - the fear of someone knowing too much about her clear - and she pulled away from his touch that he'd realized he'd crossed the line again, mistaking the situation one more time.

He'd refrained from touching her again, although he desperately wanted to. He wanted to explore every bit of her skin, he wanted to get lost in the feel of her against his fingers, he wanted to hear her moan. Her breathless offer of a one-time thing wasn't something he'd expected, but the moment she let him in - just a little, just this _once_ \- he knew he'd never be able to get her out of his mind. And he knew he shouldn't have asked her to reconsider his previous offer, but his sanity hung by a thread with her body so close to his. She'd been rubbing against him, pressing so close that all he wanted was to see her fall apart in his arms, to give her all the pleasure he was able to muster with his hands, his body, his tongue. Her second refusal sealed the issue for him, and he accepted that no matter what might transpire between them during the dances he'd willingly paid for, nothing else would be available to him.

He tried to forget her, to climb up out of the hole he'd dug for himself, but after a particularly gruesome week in which he'd been caught up once again in doing the good guys' dirty work, all he wanted was to see her. All he wanted was to feel her move above him, to close his eyes and pretend - even for just few, fleeting minutes - that someone cared about him.

In the end, it was the way her lips grazed his cheek that broke him. More than anything they had done before, more than the way her core had ground against him, more than the swell of her breast against his jaw, it was the softness of that simple caress that made his final wall crumble at her feet.

That dance hadn't felt like the others, it had felt different, like something was brewing between them, but he didn't dare to hope. He wouldn't ask again, he wouldn't put Emma in that position again. He read confusion in her eyes, but he'd been battling demons all week - figurative and literal - and he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him. But then she'd asked him to wait for her at a motel and his entire world shifted on its axis. Again.

He'd waited impatiently, pacing back and forth, counting the minutes and fearing she wouldn't turn up. The moment he'd opened the door to find her on the other side, his heart beat frantically against his chest. She might have reached for him first, but his lips were soon claiming hers as he wrapped her in his arms.

 _I'm not here for the money_.

All it took was one sentence to make him feel that - at least for one night - everything was right in his world.

Three days had passed since he woke up to just the scent of her on the pillow in that motel room, the memories of their shared night fresh in his mind, but not enough to sate his aching need for her. It had been years - years that felt like centuries - since he had felt so drawn to someone, like moth to a candle, like darkness seeking light until it blinded and burst him into flames.

Killian sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair. He should turn around, should simply walk away, but as he checked his watch and realized it was almost closing time at the club, he knew he was too weak to do that. He was simply not strong enough to resist the temptation.

Ruby cocked an eyebrow at him as he entered, her lips curving in a knowing smile. "Just in time for the final dance of the night, hotshot. Go ahead to the VIP, I'll get Emma over there in a minute." Her voice was teasing, filled with not so hidden meanings and Killian opened his mouth, a protest coming to his lips.

"It's not like - I -" he muttered but Ruby silenced him by placing a perfectly manicured finger against his lips.

"No explanations needed. You're not the first to fall for _the Swan_. And you won't be the last."

He paced back and forth in the room, Ruby's words still ringing in his ears, reminding him of how _not special_ Killian Jones was and would never be, when Emma entered. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, and his words of greeting died on his lips as he basked in the beauty of her face. Her eyes widened and he felt a weight press on his shoulders, a stinging feeling that he shouldn't be here, that he shouldn't be happy just because he was seeing her, that he was clearly reading too much into it, making up scenarios in his mind that were naught but delusions of a fairytale happy ending that would never be in the cards for him. So he did what he did best and hid his feelings behind his own walls, pulling his lips into a smug smile and filling his voice with a self-confidence he didn't quite feel.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, shrugging and lifting one eyebrow, hoping she'd fall for his act.

 _She didn't._

Her eyes scanned his face and he felt his facade crumble underneath the force of her stare. Whatever it was she was looking for, she seemed to find it, because she was by his side in a heartbeat, pulling him by the collar of his shirt and crashing her lips into his in a searing kiss.

"Emma," he breathed when she finally released him, leaving his head spinning from the thorough kiss.

"Shhh," she whispered, her lips brushing his tenderly and he shivered at the softness of the touch.

He let her lead, following as she pulled him into another kiss. She walked them backwards towards the room's plush loveseat, her hands roaming over the planes of his chest.

What was happening wasn't a lap dance. He couldn't even recall if there was any music playing in the background. All he could focus on was the tugging of her teeth on his bottom lip, the way her hands caressed his cheek bones and then buried in his hair as he rut his hips against hers.

It was _foreplay_. The best kind of intoxicating touches that had his mind dazed with desire, leaving him unable to utter a single, coherent thought as his hands caressed her with a sense of urgent reverence he hadn't felt in years.

Time seemed to stretch, one touch weaving into another, one moment bleeding into the next and yet, it was not enough. It would never be enough.

"Time's up," Emma whispered against his neck, her lips soothing the mark she'd worried into his skin, her breathless voice stirring him even more into life. Her eyes met his, the green almost gone in the dilated black of her pupils, her swollen lips completing a picture he wanted to forever keep in his mind.

"I can be out of here in twenty minutes." Her words were soft, almost inaudible, as if she were afraid to voice her own desires.

His fingers traced a path down her cheek, and he relished when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "I'll be waiting," he promised.

There was nothing he could do to hide the clear repercussions their dalliance had on his body, but Killian knew no one would spare a second glance at his aroused state. That was what people came here for, right, to benefit from a tight piece of arse grinding against them and getting off from it? Emma left the room first, her disheveled hair falling loosely down her back, making him long to run his hand through it and then keep going down until he found a home at the base of her spine.

 _But he knew he couldn't._

He quickly followed, eager to leave this place and meet with Emma at their agreed destination. But fortune didn't seem to favor him, as before he could reach the exit Graham came to him, his hand clasping on his shoulder.

"A word and a drink, my friend?"

" _Now_ , mate?" Killian cocked an eyebrow at him, his voice filled with controlled frustration.

"Do you have something better to do?" Graham asked, his eyes darting from him to Emma, who'd stopped and was watching the scene unfold. Killian's gaze found her eyes, and he wished he could tell Graham to get lost and snatch Emma away from this place. But that was not how things worked in the world they lived in. If Detective Humbert wanted a word with you, you bloody well obliged, or soon enough some early morning runner was sure to find your body ditched in a dumpster.

"No, I have nothing better to do," Killian sighed, plastering a cocky smirk on his face. "But you're buying the good rum, mate."

Graham laughed and clasped his shoulder again, pulling him further into the room. He stole one last glance at Emma and hoped she'd understood the meaning of his stare. She tilted her head in an imperceptible nod and it was all he had to cling onto as he let Humbert direct them to a secluded table, hoping that Emma would choose to wait for him instead.

/-/

He didn't know if she'd waited for him. He didn't even know if she'd come in the first place. Nevertheless, there he stood, paused outside the door of that motel room. He'd ditched Graham as soon as it was possible to do so without raising suspicions or drawing unnecessary attention to himself or his plans for the evening. However, it had still taken him a little over two hours to free himself and make it to the motel.

He hesitated, almost afraid of getting - or not getting - a response. But he had barely finished knocking when the door opened and Emma stood on the other side, a vision with golden curls and a soft smile. His lips curved in response to the smile she gave him, and he drank in her beauty before he reached out to gather her in his arms and kiss her soundly. The moment her lips connected with his everything else fell away and all that existed was the torrent of passion running through them, flooding every part of them. She closed the door forcefully before pushing him against it and dropping to her knees, making a quick work of his belt and zipper.

He wanted to protest, to delay her ministrations, to focus instead on having her whimpering from his own attentions on her, but he couldn't even voice his thoughts before her mouth closed on his cock and he lost all rational thought. She teased and sucked, her wet lips wringing a pleasure from him like he'd never experienced before. He wasn't going to last at this pace. He was going to come embarrassingly fast under her attentions and a part of him couldn't bring himself to care.

But he was always a gentleman. "Emma, love, stop -" he warned her. She released him with a loud pop, lifting her head and giving him a mischievous look.

"Why? You seemed to be having a good time," she purred.

"Aye… a bloody fantastic one," he admitted before he reached for her hand and pulled her up. "But this isn't only about me, darling." His lips brushed hers tentatively. "Sorry I'm late," he whispered.

"You better make it worth the wait," she teased, a carefree tone in her voice that he hadn't heard before and he knew he'd give anything to hear again.

"Let me make it up to you." He brushed a kiss down along her jawline as he walked her towards the bed.

He took his time, slowly removing her clothes and trailing kisses over every patch of skin he revealed, fueled by the breathy gasps that filled the room. When he reached her core, his tongue darted to taste her and his fingers curled inside as he drew a shivering orgasm from her. His senses intoxicated, it wasn't long until he was finally sheathed inside, his body moving in slow, shallow thrusts, dragging out the moment as long as possible before he collapsed above her.

It was later that night, as she traced nonsensical patterns down his chest, that he finally uttered the one question that had been on his mind for days.

"Why me?"

Emma lifted her head, her eyes confused for a moment before she read the meaning behind his question. "Why not you?" she countered and rested her chin over the hand that laid on his chest, staring at him a moment before she shifted her attention and focused on the wall of the room. "I don't really know. You - you stopped touching when I ask you not to. When I said _no_ that second time, you obliged. You don't linger, your eyes don't look at me like I'm a piece of meat." Her lips curved in the hint of a teasing smile as she looked at him and they purposely drew her eyes down to his chest. "You seemed like you could give me a fun time, so why not? It's not like I'm waiting for a Prince Charming to come save me in a dashing rescue and whisk me off to a white picket fence life." She offered a shrug with that the last line.

Killian laughed, his hand tracing her hipbone. "I wouldn't dream of trying to rescue someone who hadn't asked for it. Nor do I fit the hero type," he finished with a hint of self-deprecation.

"No one who sets foot in that place fits the hero type, Killian, and I am not a damsel in need of saving. I don't need someone to come offer me a better life, to snatch me away and give me the life I so-called-deserve." She spat those last words, the bile palpable in them. It didn't take a genius to figure out her meaning.

"Let me guess, some idiot offered to put you up in a nice little apartment with everything taken care of, all with the expectation you'd be his entertainment on the side while he maintained his married life."

Her chuckle was all the confirmation he need to know that he hit the nail on the head.

"You know, it's a job, much like any other," she confessed.

"Aye," he whispered. She may sell some things, he thought to himself, but at least it wasn't her dignity. He wasn't sure he could say the same about himself.

"I haven't -" She gestured between them. "Not in a long time. Or ever with a client." Her tone was that of confession spoken in the middle of a stolen night. "But I don't know, I felt it was worth a shot. I was tired of denying myself the things I wanted…"

"And you wanted me?" he asked in disbelief.

Her eyes found his. "That first night, that first dance? When I asked you why you were there? Do you remember what you said?"

The memory came back to him. "That I was tired of being alone."

She pulled herself closer to him, her nose almost brushing his. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, I'm pretty good at telling when people are lying." Her eyes bore into his. "That night, you looked right into my eyes and told me the truth."

She leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that quickly turned from soft to searing as she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. "And maybe I was tired of being alone too," she whispered against his skin.

It didn't come as a surprise when he again woke to an empty bed the following morning. He understood why she couldn't stay. It would mean admitting she cared on a deeper level, that for some godforsaken reason she'd decided - almost against her own will - to really care for him. And in the type of life she probably had, he knew she couldn't afford to care for anyone, to be vulnerable.

 _And he knew he'd never be so lucky, that there was nothing in his cursed existence that would allow for the possibility of her taking a chance with him._

/-/

He wished he could say he was a strong, honorable man. But Killian Jones knew was weak. He'd always been weak, especially when it came to succumbing to temptation.

And so he looked for her. Time after time he returned to that miserable joint, tossing the butt of his half-smoked cigarette to the ground before entering, tilting his head to the side as he greeted Ruby, his eyes already looking for Emma.

Time after time he went into the back room and placed his money on the table as he waited for her. Time after time he lost himself in the way her body moved against his. Time after time he let himself drown in her heavy breaths and wandering lips.

Time after time he met her in that motel room at the wee hours of the morning.

Time after time he fell a little more for her.

But tonight seemed to be different. Her eyes were apologetic when she met him in the VIP room, and they looked almost dull as she sank against him without preamble. She moved back and forth, reaching for his hair as she pulled him to her, seeking his lips hungrily.

"Emma…" he breathed into her skin as she broke the kiss. "Tell me, what is it?"

"I can't meet you tonight." Her voice was barely a whisper as she undid the buttons of his shirt, her nails raking over his chest. "Walsh. He -" She faltered a moment, taking a breath. "He requested a private function."

She didn't say more. She didn't have to. Killian knew very well who Walsh was, both in and outside of the club. He also knew the other man's interest in Emma had been piqued over the last few months. He'd heard the rumors, listened to the leering words tossed around over drinks as he lurked in places no respectable man would find himself in.

 _Killian Jones knew it all._

So he did what he did best, he drowned in her kisses and fervent touches. He let himself go and let her set the pace, always ready to do her bidding. The way she tugged at his belt buckle insistently had him almost growling.

"I can't - I can't pleasure you properly in here," he protested, his fingers tracing the elastic of her garter and making her shiver as she tossed her head back and ground against him.

"I just need to feel you. Killian, please…"

It was the desperation in her voice that did him in as he surrendered to her touch, to the way she pulled a condom from her knee-high boot and quickly tore the foil package. She had him out of his pants, sheathed, and inside of her before he could even breathe. The pleasure of her walls dragging against him as she moved frantically in his lap was almost too much, but he wasn't going to come until he made sure she had a good time, or at least the best time he could give her under these circumstances.

He pressed his hands into the flesh of her thighs and slowed her movements, guiding her pace to allow her core to grind against him with each roll of her hips. His lower back muscles strained as he thrust up with each movement, leaving them both panting and almost teetering over the edge. His thumb reached to circle around her clit and he pulled her into a searing kiss, muffling her moans as she came breathlessly against him. He rode out her orgasm until she was almost boneless on top of him before a few hard thrusts had him coming, the effect almost intoxicating when she pressed her forehead against his.

It was a moment or two before she spoke, although frankly it could have been centuries as he felt himself lost in a haze. "Thank you. I needed that to push through tonight. The way his hands..."

She trailed off and he felt her shivering in a completely different way than she had minutes earlier. He searched for her mouth, kissing her as if he were a man possessed and she the only cure in the world for him. When he pulled away, he disentangled her from him carefully, reaching to discard the condom before he tucked himself back into his pants and reached for her one more time. She kissed him long and deep before she retreated to the exit. He followed, not wanting to let her go.

She turned and leaned into him. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" she asked against his lips.

"I can't," he said with a shake of his head. "I have to leave town for a few days. I have a skip to chase, among other things." He hated the words coming out of his mouth, hated leaving her even if what they had was nothing more than heated encounters in a trashy motel. He hated it all, and yet he knew he had to go and do someone else's dirty work for them. _Again_.

He watched as her face faltered for a brief second before she pulled her walls up and gave him a seductive smile. "Be careful," she said as she reached to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

But Killian wasn't ready for her to leave, not yet. So he pressed her against the wall, his body covering hers from head to toe as he kissed every bit of skin he could reach, slowly dropping to his knees, his hand tracing a line through her garter.

"Killian," she whined as she started to grind against him.

"Just a few more minutes, love," he begged as he once again pushed her underwear to the side and tossed her leg over his shoulder, closing his mouth on her.

She gasped and then moaned, thrusting and grinding against his mouth and fingers as he quickly drew another release from her, nearly working himself up into another as he did. He took a deep breath as he kissed his way back up to her mouth. She pulled him into a last, searing kiss.

"I'll see you when I come back then?" he asked, his breath coming into short pants as he tried to hold onto her for one more fleeting moment.

"You know where to find me." Her fingers grazed the front of his pants as she departed and he moaned, his forehead pressing against the door she just left through.

/-/

The day seemed to go by in a blur, passing one car after the other on the road, trying desperately to keep his mind focused on the job ahead instead of on the memories of her blonde hair and pale skin. He kept his eyes on the road and his attention on the task ahead as he finally made it to town and checked into his crappy motel. One look at the room told him he really wanted to spend as little time as possible in there. So he found a bar a few blocks away and ordered his usual rum, wanting to get drunk enough to keep the memories at bay.

He was on his second glass when he finally checked his phone. He found a few missed calls from a couple unknown numbers, but no messages. He was wondering about that when his phone rang again, the display showing Graham's name.

"Isn't it a little early to check on me?" he asked, not giving Graham a chance to talk. Killian was too tired to keep his frustration at the other man's scrutiny at bay.

"Killian, I've been trying to reach you… you have to come back into town."

"Come back? Graham, I just got here after driving all bloody day. My only plans are to get drunk and pass out on my crappy motel room in less than an hour. Why the fuck would I want to go back?"

There was a shuffling noise followed by Ruby's voice coming across the line, panic and fear evident in her words. "Killian, you need to get back here. It's Emma."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: This is it, the final part. I had a few more things thought for this story, including a few on Graham's background and how he knows Killian, but I can't pull that off without another extra 15k and I just don't have it in me._

* * *

Killian couldn't recall the first leg of the journey back to town, it was all a hazy blur of lights and steaming coffee that burnt his tongue time and again as he gulped it down. He knew he should have waited a few hours for the alcohol to leave his system but he couldn't, not when Ruby's only frazzled words were _"Get back here"_ and Graham not only hadn't opposed her command but supported it.

It was a long night and a longer morning until he finally reached Boston again and headed towards the address Graham had texted him a few hours ago. He took one look at himself in the rearview mirror and almost flinched at the image that saluted him back. His eyes were red-rimmed, the lack of sleep clear in them. His hair was sticky and messed up, and his scruff was unkempt. It was clear that the last two days had taken a toll on him and he looked like shit. But at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to care as he got out of the car and quickly closed the distance to the apartment building. He wasn't sure, but he had an inkling that he'd been directed to Emma's place and his heart beat frantically in his chest. He took the stairs two at the time as he headed to the second floor.

Two of Graham's cronies were keeping guard by the door and one glance at him had them softly knocking on the door. Graham was out of the apartment in a second, and after taking one look at Killian he signaled the two men. They nodded and simply walked down the corridor and headed towards the exit.

"Killian, you look like shit."

"I've been driving non-stop since I talked to you. What the bloody hell happened?" Killian had enough of the mystery and the talking in circles. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

Graham breathed in and out deeply, running a hand through his hair before his eyes met Killian's. "Walsh, he - he assaulted Emma."

Killian felt his knees give out and he had to lean on the opposite wall for fear of collapsing on his feet. "Emma… is she - How is she?"

"She's alive and in pretty good shape considering what could have happened. She has multiple lacerations and bruises, no broken ribs, though. The bastard drank too much and felt he was entitled to more than what he was paying for. When she refused, he beat her. She fought back, screamed. Ruby had to get one of the bouncers to kick the door open. She and the bouncer got to Emma and by the time the confusion had settled, Walsh and his men had punched their way out of there."

Killian clenched his jaw, his hand fisting at his side. "How is she doing now?" He would care about Walsh later, and he would take care of Walsh later. Right now, he only wanted - _needed_ \- to know how Emma was doing.

Graham sighed. "She's drifting in and out of sleep. They gave her some painkillers and sedatives to help ease the pain for the next day or two." He paused a moment and there was such electricity in the air that Killian knew there was something else going on. "Killian," Graham said gravely. "There are signs of intercourse, but Emma said it wasn't Walsh. That he didn't abused her to that extent."

Graham glanced away before he focused again on Killian, a mix of embarrassment and determination clear in his face. "I hate this, but I **_have_** to ask."

Killian sighed, running his head through his hair before he met Graham's stare again. "We had sex earlier that night… Emma and I."

The words tasted like bile in his mouth, like he'd taken something that had meant so much to him and cheapened it in a locker room confession. Graham's hand was on his shoulder. "That stays with us, Jones. It's no one else's business to know that."

"Thank you, mate," Killian said before he sagged against the wall. "Is Ruby with her?"

Graham nodded and Killian let his thoughts run wild for a few moments, trying to calm himself enough to come back from the deep hole he found himself in. When he finally felt like himself again - or as much as he could - he asked the question he had been waiting to ask since he arrived. "Can I see her?"

/-/

He hesitated as he stepped into the apartment, feeling like an intruder, like he was stepping over an unspoken boundary. Graham hadn't come in with him, claiming he needed to go give a few instructions to his men, but Killian could sense he was trying to give him some privacy. While he appreciated the gesture, he couldn't stop feeling like he was crossing every single line that still remained in his life. Killian rested his forehead against the closed door and took a deep breath.

He was still in that position, his eyes closed and breathing deeply, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Ruby giving him a sympathetic smile. She was almost void of any makeup, her long hair simply braided at the side, her flashy clothes traded for a pair of leggings and a baggy shirt.

"Hey," she whispered, giving Killian's shoulder a squeeze. "She's resting now, she's been in and out a few times. Come with me."

"Ruby, I don't think it's good idea." Killian hesitated, running his hand through his hair, self-deprecation rearing its ugly head. "I shouldn't be here…."

She seemed to contemplate his words for a moment or two before she deemed them pointless. "Nonsense," she said, tugging his sleeve to lead him further into the apartment. Killian followed despite his protestations, finding himself too weak to resist the need to see Emma, regardless the outcome. Ruby paused by the door, pushing it ajar and motioning for him to enter. "She's been calling for you in her sleep."

Her words sank deep in him as he finally crossed the threshold into her room. He had to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light before he was able to make out Emma on the bed. He felt his heart breaking at the sight of her lying there, the covers tucked neatly at her shoulders, a couple of small fits alerting him of her restless sleep. There was an armchair positioned by the bed with a blanket thrown over it. It seemed that was where Ruby had positioned herself to guard over her friend's sleep. Killian took a few hesitant steps and collapsed onto it, his eyes cataloging every bit of Emma's features he could see. There was a small cut on her upper lip, and the hint of a bruise ran from her left cheek to her eye. Her arms were covered by long sleeves and Killian longed to expose the skin so he could check its state, but refrained from doing so. Instead, he returned his attention to her face. He lingered his hand along her forehead, plucking away a loose strand of hair and grazing her skin before he took his hand back to rest next to hers on the bed. Emma stirred, a soft sigh escaping her lips before her breathing evened out.

Tiredness washed over him and he slumped his shoulders against the back of the armchair and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep for a brief moment - or hours - before he was brought back by a soft squeeze to his hand. Killian quickly opened his eyes and found Emma looking back at him.

"Killian…"

The sound of his name on her lips was a blessing and a curse. There was contentment in her tone at the sight of him, which lifted his spirits, but the pain laced in her voice broke his heart.

"Swan, how are you feeling?" he asked tenderly, and not being able to refrain himself, he pulled her hand into his lips and placed a reverent kiss to her knuckles.

 _Please tell me you're ok. Please tell me this bastard hasn't broken you beyond repair._

Emma seemed to read his thoughts because she smiled softly through the haze of the painkillers. "I'll be fine. I'm just - I'm just tired Killian," she said, her eyes closing and almost drifting back into sleep.

"Sleep, darling, sleep," he murmured, wanting nothing but to erase every single ache in her body and soul.

But Emma Swan wasn't done turning his entire life upside down. Her eyes still closed, the fatigue visible on her features, her walls completely down, she spoke the words that melted his heart.

"All those nights, I should have stayed with you. I wanted to stay, Killian, but I couldn't... I should have woken up next to you… I'm sorry."

She grew agitated at the last of her words and he quickly bent over, squeezing her hand and murmuring into her skin. "Shhh, Swan, it's fine. Sleep." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, feeling her warmth seep into him the moment his lips touched her skin. "Sleep, my love."

The words sank into him the moment they escaped his lips, their meaning more clear to him than ever. In between her dances and his lurking, the lines he dared to cross and those nights where the only thing that made sense in his life was her body rocking against his, he'd fallen for her.

He'd fallen for Emma Swan and he was going to make sure the bastard that hurt her paid the price.

/-/

He waited a few hours, making sure Emma was well, watching as sleep seemed to help her recover some, before he finally left her room. Graham and Ruby were curled together on the couch in the living room, but they pulled apart as they saw the resolve in his face. Ruby gave him a small smile as she excused herself to go check on Emma.

Killian took a moment to peruse over the apartment, noticing the lack of any familiar mementos or personal touches. It seemed he had many things in common with Emma, and their places being simply an abode in which to sleep but not really a home was one of them.

He craned his neck to the side, letting his bones shift and crack into position as he took a deep breath and focused on Graham.

"Killian -" Graham started, but Killian waved his hand.

"Where is he?" he asked, not wanting to delay the inevitable. "Where's Walsh?"

"I haven't found him yet."

Of course he hadn't. That was Killian's job, it was him who usually found people for Graham and delivered them to his door. He would do it again.

"I'll find him," Killian said, his voice sounding foreign even to himself. The ruthless tone would be enough to scare any man who wasn't Graham _bloody_ Humbert.

"Killian." Graham's tone wasn't one that Killian wanted to hear at the moment and he shook his head. "Remember that the stakes are higher in here. This goes beyond Walsh and _you know it_."

He cursed. Of course Killian knew it. He'd been doing Graham's dirty work for years, finding people for him, blurring the lines and doing the shady business when needed, all in the name of the greater good. But this… _this was where his line was crossed_.

"You can't expect me to do nothing, Humbert!" He tilted his head and clenched his jaw in frustration. "What would you do? What if it were Ruby?"

Graham clenched his own jaw in frustration and Killian knew he'd just buy his way into this. "Just - be careful, Killian. I won't tell you what to do. I'm going to trust that when the time is right, you'll choose the type of man you want to be."

/-/

It took only a couple of days to track down Walsh. The bastard never really thought anyone would care that much about what he considered a low-life whore with delusions of grandeur.

And in the end, Killian was pretty sure it was those exact words coming out of his mouth that sealed the man's fate. He'd always been able to keep in control, keep detached from whatever it was he was doing for whomever was paying him to do it. It was always controlled, planned, and carefully executed. He was meticulous in his tasks.

But not this time. Every punch he threw as he beat the man to within an inch of his life was full of a tempestuous rage that Killian almost hadn't been able to control.

And he knew it'd be like that, which is why he'd alerted Graham to come find them at the address where he'd found Walsh. He was cleaning the blood from his hands when Graham showed up with two of his men in tow. The cop cocked his head as he studied him. "Is he alive?"

Killian shrugged. "He's breathing… for now. I left him handcuffed to the heater." He tossed the keys to Graham and started to walk away. "He's all yours."

Graham stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Killian, you might want to -"

Killian didn't need to hear to rest of that sentence. He knew what he had to do, it wasn't something he hadn't done before. He needed to make himself invisible, and more importantly, untraceable. "Aye, I'm on my way."

Graham clasped his shoulder. "I'll let you know when the dust settles."

Killian nodded. "You know where to find me." He gave Graham a serious stare. "Graham, you're the only one who knows where to find me. I trust you will keep it that way." In all the years they've known each other, Graham had never betrayed that trust, but Killian felt the need to remind him nonetheless.

Graham nodded, a final pat to Killian's shoulder signaling the end of the conversation as his men emerged from the warehouse and an ambulance siren could be heard in the distance.

Killian cocked his head and took a deep breath, readying himself to disappear into the night.

He only had one visit to do before that.

/-/

It didn't take him long to throw the few things he wanted in a duffel bag and pick up some cash, IDs, and firearms from his place. He did a quick run through to make sure everything was settled for him to be gone for a while, - which wasn't a problem as his apartment had been nothing but a glorified homebase for years, and he was on his way out of the door, carefully locking up behind him.

He fidgeted his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove to Emma's apartment. He knew he should be leaving the city as soon as possible, but also knew he wouldn't leave without at least saying goodbye to her.

Ruby answered the door and the way she simply tilted her head towards the bedroom tipped Killian on the fact that she was expecting him. He cleared his throat and gave her a small smile before heading to the Emma's room.

His smile widened when he found Emma propped up halfway to a sitting position, a few pillows tucked underneath her back to help support her. She looked at him as he smiled, her hand motioning for him to enter. He walked towards her bed and sat on the edge, careful not to jostle her. Looking closer, she was still pale and fragile, the bruises on her face turning into a yellowish purple, but there was a little bit of glint back into her eyes.

Killian didn't know what to say - what was he even allowed to say considering what they were or weren't to one another - so he simply sighed and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I need to disappear for a while," he whispered against her palm as his eyes peered upwards to meet hers. Emma squinted and her fingers grazed his scraped knuckles, the realization of what he meant dawning on her.

"Killian -" Her voice broke and he pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead against hers, and taking a moment to breathe her in.

"It's all right, love. It'll be fine. I just need to make myself scarce for a few weeks." That it might be more went unsaid. "Graham is going to make sure you're safe. Nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I promise."

His resolve faltered as the words left his mouth. His need to protect her and not leave her side nesting deep within him, though he knew she didn't need saving. And as much as he might want nothing more in this world for her to come with him, he wasn't going to ask that of her. He couldn't let himself hope for that much.

He brushed his lips against hers in a parting kiss. "Take care, my love." His heart betrayed his brain at those last words and he felt a shiver run through her. Killian started to pull away, a heavy weight settling on his chest at every inch that separated him from her. But when her hand squeezed his, he lifted his eyes to hers, a sliver of hope sneaking inside him.

"Can I - Can I disappear with you?" Her voice was soft, and he could read her hesitancy there, but he could also feel her resolution in the way she looked at him. She was letting him in and he could tell it frightened her, but Killian was not going give her a reason to regret the decision.

He pulled her to him, his hand on her cheek as he kissed her. "To the end of the world and time, Emma," he mumbled against her lips.

She laughed, quirking an eyebrow at him and teasing at his theatrics. "Let me get a few things together. Can you get Ruby for me?"

"Aye, I'll wait for you outside."

Twenty minutes later, Emma emerged from the room, dressed in a pair of washed out jeans and a dark sweater. Ruby was by her side in case Emma needed to lean on her, and she carried a travel bag that she handed to Killian. He took the bag, securing it over his shoulder before his arm darted around Emma's waist. She leaned closer to him, her nose pressed at the hollow of his neck as she breathed him in.

"Ready?"

"Yes, let's do this."

He didn't let go of her as they left the building and walked towards his car. His hand left her waist only to link their fingers together as he put her bag into the truck, next to his. Emma leaned in to kiss him as he helped her into the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt. He took a few more luscious moments to simply kiss her, to lose himself into the warm press of her lips against his. The soft touch of her fingertips on his earlobe. The way her hair felt felt tangled in his hand.

This time, when he disappeared into the night, he was looking forward to what would come next.


End file.
